


Do Not Read

by DivisionSymbols



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Edward is also mentioned but he's a bit busy vibing in his boat, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Phil has wings, Ranboo has a bad time but it's okay he gets plenty of hugs from Dadza, Ranboo's cats are here!, Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), also a few mentions of Quackity Fundy and Tubbo, but it's not graphic, he really needs one, i don't know what tags to use, someone please give this tall child a hug, there are mentions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:22:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28561977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DivisionSymbols/pseuds/DivisionSymbols
Summary: Ranboo never did have much courage. So when he discovers they read his memory book, well, he's always been quick on his feet.
Relationships: Ranboo & Philza
Comments: 9
Kudos: 698





	Do Not Read

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of Ranboo's "BEATING MINECRAFT WITH MR. SLIMECICLE" stream, starting at about 2:18:20 or so. Can I just say that Ranboo's acting is fucking amazing? Mans really got in character there.

They knew.

They knew.

They  _ knew _ .

They had to have known, because it wasn’t  _ there _ . He didn’t put it there. He never left it there. Who could have found it? Quackity? Fundy? Oh, god, why did he leave it? Why couldn’t he have put it in the goddamn enderchest?

Ranboo almost dropped the leather book in his haste to flip it open, rapidly glancing over the pages. Nothing was missing.  _ But that doesn’t matter now, does it? They found it and they know, they know what a dirty little traitor you are. _ He snapped the book shut, hesitated, then flipped it open again. With a shaking hand, he pulled out the quil and scribbled on the next blank page;

_ “They know. They found the book.” _

Without fully waiting for the ink to dry, he snapped it shut again. He scrambled up the ladder to the loft and rummaged through one of the chests, cursing himself when he realized  _ you’re taking too long, too long, they’ll be here and they’ll take you away, to prison or execution or maybe they’ll pretend it’s all okay and that they don’t know and then at the Festival they’ll lead you up on stage and let the whole world know before they kill you— _ He practically threw himself down from the loft, deciding he didn’t have time to keep looking. 

Ranboo risked a glance out his window and, in the distance, saw several figures approaching. His panic spiked. This was it. They were coming for him. He snatched his messenger bag, shoving the memory book inside and hastily fastening the straps. He slung it over his shoulder, started for the ladder to the loft, and paused. He couldn’t leave without his cats.

He glanced out the window again. The figures were just setting foot on the docks now. Ranboo bit his tongue, ignoring the sharp metallic taste that was quick to flood his mouth. He opened the messenger bag, ushered Enderchest and Jeffery into it.

Once the cats were safely (but probably not entirely comfortably) tucked into the bag, he closed it as best he could before latching onto the edge of the loft and heaving himself up because he doesn’t have time to scramble back up the ladder. Any second now, they would be knocking at the door, or maybe just kicking it down and coming in for him with their weapons drawn.

Ranboo nudged the barrels lined on the back wall aside, drew his ax, and swung it down. He hacked at the wall until there was a large enough hole for him to wiggle his lanky body through, mindful of the precious, fluffy cargo in his bag. He leapt from the opening and took off running,  _ to where? Where is there left? You betrayed the people who gave you a home, who accepted you. All they asked for in return was a bit of loyalty and you couldn’t even do that, could you? _

_ Tommy, Tommy— Techno would let you stay, wouldn’t he? Tommy would convince him, wouldn’t he? You stood by while the Butcher Army tried to kill him, you watched him almost get executed, of course he wouldn’t let you stay. But no, that’s not right, he let me hang out with him and Tommy and Phil— didn’t he? He’s only tolerating you. Phil…  _

_ Phil! Phil would let us stay. He wouldn’t turn down a child in need, right? _

_ And where is Phil? Phil… Somewhere cold... _

Ranboo snapped out of his confused and panicked thoughts when someone (Quackity, it sounded like Quackity) shouted something behind him. He didn’t bother looking back. His eyes narrowed and he focused and suddenly he was a good hundred feet ahead of where he was seconds ago. He knew his chest would hurt and it would feel as if his ribcage had shattered later, once the adrenaline wore off, as an after effect of abusing his teleportation (or using it in general; his pearl was weak and it always hurt so goddamn much to teleport) but he did it again, just to gain more ground because his life depended on it. Already his chest was burning and he didn’t dare risk a third teleport, instead just running as fast as he could.

It was all a blur, and Ranboo found himself in the tundra by time his racing hearts slowed enough that he could finally stop running, gasping for breath. The pain was sinking in, a hot, blazing fire resting first under his sternum and swiftly soaking its way through his entire chest until every little movement set new sparks of pain through his veins, every breath a new agony.

For a moment, he forgot why he was here, why everything hurt so bad, why he wasn’t at home in L’manberg, then he remembered his panic over first being unable to locate his book and then finding it stuffed in one of his chests where it didn’t belong. Sorrow joined the pain and fear in his chest.

Techno’s house. He had to find Techno’s house.

As he marched on, trying his best to block out the pain that made hot, burning tears rise to his unblinking eyes, snow began to seep through his shoes, a horrible reminder of how unprepared he was to come out here. All he had was his bag, his tools, and a suit ill suited (any other time he might’ve laughed at the irony) for the harsh cold.  _ And your cats and memory book _ , he reminded himself, resting a hand on the bag and taking comfort in the soft, muffled  _ mrrow _ that the action prompted.

Between the burning of melted snow soaking the bottoms of his feet, the agony in his chest, and the burning sensation of tears in his eyes, Ranboo barely noticed when it started snowing. It was just another burning pain to add to the rest as the cold flakes hit his exposed skin and melted. 

And oh god, it was so cold, he realized, crossing his arms and hunching over in a vain attempt to keep at least a little of his dwindling body heat in. It only worsened the pain in his chest, and he supposed that in a way it made him just a little warmer with the searing burn, but fuck if it wasn’t still so cold.

_ How much farther? Can’t be much farther. Please, please let it be just over this hill… _

It wasn’t. Ranboo wanted to cry, wanted to just curl up somewhere warm and snuggle up with Enderchest and Jeffrey and cry for a while. But he had to keep going. If not for himself, then for the two cats tucked away in his bag. They were probably getting uncomfortable by now, if they hadn’t already been. He felt bad, but he couldn’t just stop here and let them out. If he stopped now, he knew he wouldn’t be able to get back up. He’d die, all alone in the cold,  _ a dirty traitor, just a damn enderman bound to betray the country he’d untruthfully sworn his loyalty to _ —

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and pushed on. He was getting slower, he realized. The pain in his feet had dissipated and they were now just chillingly cold and numb. That wasn’t good. He flexed his fingers experimentally and realized they were getting stiff and were starting to go numb from the cold. Fear stabbed through his heart once again, but he couldn’t dwell on it.

_ Just find the cabin, just find the cabin, just find the cabin, we’ll be alright, Phil wouldn’t let us die. Phil is kind. _

At last Ranboo saw the cabin come into view, barely visible through the snow that now pelted down around him. He bit back a relieved sob, instead focusing on just putting one foot in front of the other. His entire body felt numb now.

He wasn’t sure when he fell, but suddenly he was on the ground on his side. Thankfully not the side with his bag. The snow burned his skin but he barely felt it. He tried to force himself to move but couldn’t. His limbs were so heavy.

_ No, no, we’re so close, don’t give up! Get up, get up! _

Darkness pricked the corners of his vision. He just couldn’t move.

_ Get up, throw something at the door, scream, do something! Anything! _

He couldn’t open his mouth, but that was fine, that would be letting the snow in.

_ Do something! _

He mustered up enough energy to let out a screech. It was weak, he knew, but someone must’ve heard, right? Someone… someone heard…

Right?

…

Someone came.

The cabin door opened and a figure stepped out, yelling something when they saw him collapsed several feet away from the porch. 

Finally, Ranboo let darkness embrace him.

It was warm, Ranboo noticed. So warm and cozy. A soft, steady rumble worked its way through his chest, which ached and burned but could be ignored in favour of focusing on other things. He knew he should really get up— he had to feed his cats and set up for the Festival, afterall.

_ No, no, not set up for the Festival, we aren’t there, they found the book, we ran away. Where, where did we go? Cold… snow… but here is warm… _

“Kid? Are you awake?” Whose voice was that? Phil? It had to be Phil. Yes, that was Phil. Somewhere, an enderman  _ vwoop _ ed curiously, sounding somewhat concerned.

Ranboo shifted, the purr dying down. He shifted his arms away from his eyes to blearily look around. He was inside the cabin. He’d made it. He was laying in a bed too small for him— he had to curl in on himself to fit, but that was okay, it was warmer that way— with several heavy blankets draped over him. A chair was propped nearby, none other than Phil sitting in it, leaning forward with a mixture of concern and relief on his face.

Before Ranboo could speak, Phil spoke up again. “I found you passed out outside. There was a noise and Edward started acting up, and you were just there. What are you doing out here, Ranboo?”

Fear clawed at Ranboo’s chest as he sat up, the memories of before running through his head as he tried desperately to put words to his thoughts. “They found it. They found the book. They— they know I helped Techno— they know I’m a traitor, and they would have killed me or-or thrown me in prison—”

Warm arms and a pair of soft grey wings wrapped around him and he suddenly found himself sobbing his hearts out on Phil’s shoulder. The man whispered comforting words and ran his fingers through split hair, not seeming to care that his shoulder was getting soaked with tinted red and green tears.

It took several minutes for Ranboo to calm down enough to pull away and wipe at his eyes with his sleeve, belatedly realizing he wasn’t wearing his suit anymore, instead wearing some sort of sweatshirt and sweatpants that were a little too small for him in terms of length but were quite baggy otherwise. He could only guess that they were Techno’s.

“S-sorry,” Ranboo mumbled once he trusted his voice enough not to give out. “I shouldn’t have come here—”

“Ay, mate,” Phil kept his hands on the boy’s shoulders and rubbed his thumbs in little circles. “You did what you had to do. You didn’t have anywhere else to go. Did you think we would just turn you out on your own? No, you’re staying here.”

“But Techno—”

“Techno won’t mind,” Phil cut his protest off. “He’s not cruel. He wouldn’t just turn a child away like that. Besides, we already got one racoon living in the basement, it can’t hurt to have an enderman as well.”

Ranboo was silent for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Phil studied him for a moment, before sighing softly and pulling him into another hug. “You didn’t deserve to be thrown into this mess, kid.”

Ranboo didn’t speak, just curled closer to the man and let his tears fall down.

Despite his tears and all his fears, for the first time in a while, he truly felt safe.

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to clarify that saying "hearts" instead of just "heart" was intentional. Ranboo has two different colours of blood, right? So it sort of makes sense if he had two hearts, one in either side of his chest, one for the red blood and one for the green. That was my line of thinking, at least. He also does have an enderpearl, in the middle of his chest, under the sternum.  
> Techno's sweater was considered small but baggy because while he's not as tall, he's a hell of a lot more muscle-y than Ranboo. Ranboo is a thin lamppost and we love him.  
> In the beginning, he was rummaging through chests to try and get supplies so he wouldn't keel over in the middle of nowhere, but he panicked and thought he was running out of time and decided he'd survive without.


End file.
